


Ghosts

by mallowuji



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 16:57:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18077363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallowuji/pseuds/mallowuji
Summary: Just an indulgent fic written at 1am in the midst of college procrastination and failed reconciliations.





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Just some short indulgent fic I wrote at 1am because I was having intense feelings in between academic requirements and Jicheol. This has been in my drafts for months. I was hoping to make a whole series out of it but I guess I'll let end out first hehe.

The familiar feeling of coldness was back. One could only say it so when they’ve experienced the bliss of warmth and the happiness all at once. In that apartment, all the lights were off. There was no sign of life inside aside from the beeping of the telephone in the kitchen, playing all the voicemail Jihoon had received over the week, none of it being answered. It had been a week of self-loathing, curling himself into a ball and crying his eyes out until he passed out. Everything was a blur. He couldn’t even bring himself to bathe or eat and he was sure he was going to be skin and bones when he snaps out of this phase. He easily lost weight and it was also easy for him to fall in sadness too, so he wasn’t surprised when he saw his reflection in the mirror when he decided to clean his face.  

 

Looking back at him was a Jihoon he hoped he would never see again. This was the reason why he didn’t like isolating himself. On the mirror was a face he couldn’t recognize anymore. His eyes were puffed up from crying endlessly, his lips were cracked, his cheeks were hollow from denying food for days and his eyebags had their own bags. He looked so grimy he couldn’t look at himself any longer so he washes himself. He wanted to finish it fast, but then the heaviness in his chest overwhelms him and his suddenly sitting on the tiled floor of his bathroom, under the spray of the shower, sobbing silently. He doesn’t know what’s going on, he has no idea why his crying again, but all he could feel was immense pain. It took him longer to finish his shower that his skin started to get pruny. As he got out of the bathroom, he hoped he would feel better but the sight of his empty apartment and the feeling of the cold air made him realize once again, he was alone. This apartment felt like home once, when there were two people residing in it. Now, it was just another space of the ghosts of the past, just anothe reminder of the things that were. That idea alone reminded him of the numbing pain in his chest that didn’t seem to cease. It continued to pound, harder with each step that he didn’t make it to his bedroom anymore, he simply slide down in his couch and curled into a little ball, holding his knees to his chest as close as he can as a new wave of sadness overcame him. Every joint in his body ached. It was getting tiring at this point. He falls asleep crying, he wakes up with tired eyes and cry about crying to sleep, he stares at the places “he” would be and burst into tears again. It was a never-ending cycle and Jihoon was getting tired of it himself.

 _Why did you have to leave me?_  

 

He would ask this question again and again, beat himself with the answers his mind would come up. 

 

 _Because he got tired of you._  

 _Because he was losing interest, you were boring him._  

 _Because you were too vocal about your opinions._  

_Because work is much more important than little Jihoonie._

_Because you were hardly anything to him but a pretty face to fuck._  

 

The last one usually hurt the most especially when they parted after one last fuck. In Jihoon’s defense, he wanted to test how much Seungcheol valued him, but that night proved everything when the older simply left after Jihoon made him choose between work or him. Work was hardly even work. Work meant he had time to leave Jihoon for long periods of time so he can flirt and fuck with other people. Work meant Jihoon had to stay behind and be good until Seungcheol’s return. Work meant waiting in agony and spending the lonely nights alone. Even though there were good times, those measly times when Seungcheol would come back momentarily to keep Jihoon sated of affection and other things, it wasn’t enough when he didn’t have Seungcheol all to himself and it was killing him that it was always like that. But he didn’t anticipate that it would kill him like this as well. The gnawing feeling of something missing inside his chest, growing every day, was slowly killing him and he didn’t know what to do but cry.  

 

"I'm sorry..." he would mutter in between hushed sobs. In the end, all he could really blame was himself. If he had been a little more patient, if he had been a little more understanding, then maybe he wouldn't have be left alone.

 

In that little space he put himself into, where the violets and blues of the sky illuminate the inside of his lightless apartment, Jihoon’s breathing shook. It was coming again. There seemed to be lion living inside his chest, taking naps in between its growls. That moment was one of the growls. For no reason at all, big bubbles of tears prickle his eyes until the warm tears run down his face again. How many times had he cried that day? Probably the third outburst since he woke up. He was sobbing noisily into his shaking hands, body quacking with every heave of breath with his limbs trashing from the overwhelming sensations of desvastation. How could Choi Seungcheol affect him like this? How can one man bring his world crumbling down? Despite all the fucked up things Seungcheol had done to him in the last days of their relationship, Jihoon still wished to be in his arms instead of crying himself like this every hour of the day. He still wished for the same warmth to crawl back into his now frozen chest. His heart beat in despair. What used to pump his blood and send warmth was now giving him immense pain, it was getting harder to breathe. If he continued crying like this, he was sure to pass out again. Yet he really couldn’t do anything. Hell, there wasn’t anything else to do but to cry. 

 

And cry he did. 

 

There wasn’t a day his vision cleared; it was always blurry with tears. As much as he wanted to feel his heart beat, he also didn’t like to acknowledge the hurt he was carrying. Yes, it was hard to breathe. Yes, he needed his lungs to work. Yes, he had been crying for a good two weeks, living on very little sustenance, but somewhere at the back of his mind, he wanted to be okay. He needed to be okay. There were other things to be busy about. Things that didn’t involve Choi Seungcheol. He really needed to stop crying, but what good is a heart is when it shutters to speak? It was too late now. There was no turning back, there was no one there to save Jihoon from his own misery. Yet he hopes it would end soon, he hopes the pain would subdue and let him breathe again. It’s been a month since he played the piano. Even with his recovering hands, he wanted to play again. But what for? For whom does he play?  

 

It’s starting to get fuzzy around the edges again. Suddenly, his head was going light. Jihoon was still breathless but his sobbing was slowly reducing itself to quiet hiccups. He swiped at the tears and the snot, willing himself to breathe so he doesn’t pass out again. But the darkness was claiming him fast and before he can take a deep breathe, his eyes were closing, he was losing breath again.  

 

If only Seungcheol could see him then, if only the older could see the ruin Jihoon had become, will things change between them? Will Seungcheol start caring for him again? Will Seungcheol wipe the tears away?  

 

Choi Seungcheol once wished that whatever made Lee Jihoon smile, he wished it would never leave. 

 

But where was he now when Jihoon needed him the most?  


End file.
